The Eighth Gift
by SqueakGirl
Summary: It's Christmas time again, and Kyle's alone. Stan decides to participate in Hanukkah by giving his Super Best Friend a gift for eight nights. Stan x Kyle


I told myself this was going to be really short, but I ended up writing nearly 20 pages. Oh well. Anyway, I wanted to write a holiday fan fic. First I was going to make it Christmas themed, but I was like no screw that. Hanukkah for Kyle! :D Plus I find it kind of interesting that Hanukkah and Christmas overlap this year.

Anyway hope you enjoy.

**Summary: **It's Christmas time again, and Kyle's alone. Stan decides to participate in Hanukkah by giving his Super Best Friend a gift for eight nights.

**Rating:** K+

**Pairing:** Stan x Kyle

**Disclaimer:** I do not own South Park. This is just for fun and writing practice.

* * *

><p>The Eighth Gift<p>

Catching glimpses of the snow drift lazily past his window, Kyle twirled his desk chair back and forth. He kicked out his legs as he swung completely around to face his computer desk. Then pushing off again, he spun to glance out his window once more. He cast his eyes about the room, bored and finding nothing to occupy his mind.

His attention back on his desk, Kyle shuffled through a deck of playing cards Stan had given him the day before. They depicted John Elway frozen in place as he prepared to hurl a football down the playing field. Next to the cards sat an opened CD case, its plastic shimmering with the light from the computer monitor. Kyle had inserted the CD into his computer already, allowing the distinct drum beats and distorted lyrics to waver through his room. The music had also been a gift from Stan along with a pair of Terrence and Phillip action figures and a brand new comic.

Kyle stacked the cards in a neat pile with one hand as he looked out his bedroom window once more. Getting to his feet he crossed the room and peered through the foggy glass. Outside the world swam with tufts of white snow and electric lights glittered multi-colored flashes across displays of reindeer, Santa Clauses, and plastic Nativity scenes.

It was Christmas Eve, and Kyle was all alone.

Well, not exactly. His mother and father sat downstairs enjoying his mother's latkes and watching Ike argue with the cable news pundits. Kyle could hear his parents' chuckles drift from out of the living room and up the stairs.

Tonight also happened to be the fifth night of Hanukkah, and Stan hadn't shown like he'd promised.

Kyle's family had already lit the Menorah's candles, exchanged a few small gifts, and played Dreidel. Mrs. Broflovski had insisted Kyle play with Ike while she took pictures. She'd eventually place them in a large binder filled with photos of Kyle and Ike. She often took out the book to scan through the photos depicting birthdays, school fairs, and holiday events. She had a whole section of Kyle and his brother celebrating Hanukkah from the past couple of years. One photo showed Ike as an infant barely able to sit up, leaning against a much younger Kyle who spun the dreidel for his brother's benefit.

Kyle had finally managed to pull himself away from his family to sulk up in his room awaiting his best friend. By some strange whim, Stan had decided to buy Kyle Hanukkah presents that year. When asked why, Stan had simply shrugged and claimed he thought it would be fun. Kyle had rolled his eyes at this, but didn't object. How could he say no to presents? It did make him worry over what to get Stan for Christmas that year, but a new John Elway poster had fixed that. For the first night of Hanukkah, Stan had wandered over from his house to watch Mr. Broflovski light the candles. Stan had then pulled from out of his coat pocket a small package containing Terrence and Phillip action figures. Kyle had been admiring them a week ago, when the whole gang had perused the aisles of the local toy store during one of its pre-holiday sales.

The next night Stan had returned to give Kyle the comic book. Each night he'd appear, rosy-cheeked with snow clustered in his dark hair and large white flakes collecting on his shoulders. Kyle had questioned Stan further for why he'd risk humiliation from Cartman just to participate in Hanukkah. Stan had laughed and nudged Kyle in the shoulder.

"I just want to, okay?" he'd said.

Kyle threw his hands up in the air. "Whatever, Dude."

"Is there something wrong with me participating in Hanukkah?" Stan had asked, confused. "Your mom and dad don't seem to mind. I like the potato cakes."

Kyle smiled.

"Nah, I just don't know why you'd bother when you got your Christmas to look forward to."

"But you give me a Christmas present every year, and you always have to put up with Cartman's bullshit. So, I just thought I'd, you know, return the favor and celebrate something with you."

Stan blushed as he spoke. Kyle raised an eyebrow wondering why his friend was embarrassed. He had been acting strange ever since he'd turned ten, so Kyle guessed this was just another new trait of his friend's he needed to cope with.

Reshuffling the deck of Elway cards, Kyle sighed. His clock shone eight thirty and Stan still hadn't appeared. He assumed that with it being Christmas Eve and all, Stan had simply lost interest in participating in Hanukkah. Kyle pondered on whether or not he should just turn in for the night. He had no desire to do anything else that evening without his best friend.

Kyle had just crossed his room to stand near his dresser when something caught his attention outside. A familiar truck pulled up near the Broflovski's mailbox and a small figure hopped out of the back seat. The shape dashed up the walk and seconds later Kyle heard his doorbell echo through the house.

Suddenly wide awake and with his heart thumping against his chest, Kyle bolted from his room. He jumped down the stairs two at a time and slid into his foyer just as his mother pulled open the front door.

"Well, hello, Stanley!" Mrs. Broflovski said, chuckling at the boy's disheveled appearance. Stan wore his usual brown coat and red poof-ball hat, but Kyle could see under his friend's coat was a green and red Christmas sweater. His tie was nearly undone and part of his white shirt tail peeked out from beneath his sweater and coat. Kyle laughed.

Stan beamed up at Sheila holding out a small plate covered with plastic wrap.

"I have to give Kyle his Hanukkah gift," Stan declared. Sheila patted his head and beckoned for Stan to come further inside.

"I can't stay, Mrs. Broflovski," Stan explained. "We have to visit my Uncle Jimbo before we head home. I just wanted to give these to Kyle before I forgot."

"That's very nice of you." Sheila rounded on her son. "Tell Stanley thank you, Bubbeh."

Kyle wanted to roll his eyes. Like he wouldn't thank Stan for his gift.

Sheila left the foyer and Stan shuffled closer to his friend. He pressed the plate into Kyle's hands and smiled sheepishly.

"Don't laugh, okay?"

Kyle snorted, tearing off the wrapping. "Why would I laugh?"

"Just don't."

Kyle dropped the plastic wrap and stared down at the plate. Stan had brought him gingerbread cookies. But not just any gingerbread cookies; they were all shaped to look like the Star of David.

Stan rubbed at the back of his neck.

"It's stupid, right? Totally cheesy, but I – it was my mom's idea, I swear! But – er – I…made them myself. Sort of…," Stan mumbled his face suddenly bright red. Kyle shook his head, biting his tongue as he suppressed his laughter.

"No, no, Stan. I like them! Thank you!" Kyle stuffed one cookie into his mouth to keep from giggling and to show Stan he really did enjoy the gift. True it was very cheesy, but coming from Stan, Kyle could forgive.

Stan snuck a piece of cookie and nibbled on the edge of it.

"At least they taste good, right?"

Kyle nodded.

A truck horn blared outside and both boys jumped. Stan hesitated with one foot on the threshold. Kyle's grin slipped.

"I guess you have to go to your uncle's now?"

Stan sighed.

"I really don't want to go. I know Dad and Uncle Jimbo are just going to get drunk and start shouting Christmas carols at the neighbors. Then Ned starts shooting off his gun at midnight."

"Gee, what a wonderful way to celebrate the birth of your Savior," Kyle smirked. Stan gave Kyle a look that read 'you don't know the half of it'.

"I wish I could just hang out with you, Dude," Stan confessed.

Kyle took another bite of his starred cookies.

"Aren't Christmas parties suppose to be awesome or something?" He wouldn't know of course, but the Christmas specials on TV had indicated that Christians threw quite the shindig in celebration of the birth of Jesus. Lots of food, games, miracles, hoards of Santa Clauses, deer with shiny noses, and talking toys were images Kyle had grown to connect with the idea of Christmas. When he was younger, he had believed that Christians talked to elves all the time. He recalled being five years old and hanging out at Stan's house trying to get his best friend to tell him where he hid his magic snow globe that apparently acted as radio receiver to the North Pole.

"Christmas parties aren't fun when it comes to my family," Stan said matter of fact.

"At least it's a lot more fun than hanging out with my family and celebrating Hanukkah," Kyle bemoaned his eyes drifting to the living room where Ike still argued with the newscaster and his parents lounged sleepily upon the couch.

Stan nudged Kyle in the shoulder.

"I'd be hanging out with you, duh! That's why I'd want to stay, Dude."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. Before he could respond, however, the truck horn sounded again, and the boys could hear Shelley yelling out of the passenger window for her little brother to get his ass in the truck. Stan jumped at the voice and rushed out the door. Kyle stood at the entrance waving sadly as Stan clambered back into the pick-up. As the vehicle pulled away, Sheila stole up behind her son and peered over his shoulder.

"Oh, Bubbeh! How sweet! Did Stanley make you those?" Mrs. Broflovski cooed, picking up one of the star shaped cookies. Kyle nodded. He allowed his mother to take a cookie to Ike, before he snuck the rest of them upstairs. Any other circumstance Kyle would have left the food in the kitchen, willing the rest of his family to share, but for some unknown reason Kyle didn't want to share _these_ cookies.

They were his. Stan had given them to just him.

* * *

><p>The next day Kyle sat in his room eating his star shaped cookies alone. Stan and his mother had kindly made them sugar-free, one of the few recipes Mrs. Marsh kept for Kyle's benefit. By noon, Kyle had finished about half the plate. He counted what remained and found he had five left. He gave two to Ike just so his mother wouldn't get on him later about sharing. The last three, Kyle carefully wrapped in a napkin and set on the top of his desk's shelf. He told himself he would eat one later after dinner, one after his father lit the Menorah for the sixth night, and one right before he went to bed.<p>

Like yesterday, Kyle guessed that the distraction of Christmas would deter Stan from arriving at his house for the lighting of the candles. Not that Kyle minded; he had the cookies to last him all evening.

But to Kyle's immense surprise and joy, Stan did appear on his doorstep later that evening. Wearing what appeared to be a new Terrence and Phillip t-shirt and clean sneakers, Stan knocked on the Broflovski's front door at sundown. Sheila let him in with a warm smile. Stan offered Sheila a fruitcake and a gift card from his parents.

"Oh, thank you, Stanley! I'll have to call Sharon later to thank her!" Mrs. Broflovski took the cake and shuffled into the kitchen. Mr. Broflovski was in the living room, helping Ike up onto a chair so he could watch his father light the candles. Kyle sidled up to Stan's side.

"Dude, I thought fruitcake was the stuff you gave relatives you don't like for Christmas," Kyle commented, jabbing Stan in the side with his elbow.

Stan laughed.

"Most of the time. But not my mom's fruitcake. Her recipe's awesome. She actually uses fruit in it."

"As opposed to a traditional fruitcake recipe that doesn't call for fruit?"

"Canned fruit," Stan explained. "And other shit."

"Oh."

Sheila reappeared in the living room. She herded the boys towards her husband and the Menorah. Kyle watched Stan out of the corner of his eye. He knew his best friend didn't understand a lot of the tradition behind the lighting of the candles. Stan had once commented that he really just enjoyed the fact that the lighting of the Menorah was so much simpler, _easier_ than hanging up rows of stringed lights, erecting pine trees in living rooms, and hurrying off through a bustling crowd to find shitty, expensive gifts. Although Stan knew the true story behind Christmas, he had once told Kyle he'd felt a bit jilted that his family, along with the rest of the town, didn't saver the peace that story could bring. Stan didn't really care much for the religious part, he'd confessed, but there was something quite calming and nice about celebrating a child's birth as opposed to waiting in a huge line at the mall to see Santa. Stan told Kyle it often helped him get through the hassle of Christmas if he just simply thought of it as celebrating a distant aunt having a baby. If he could set his mind to imagining a small room with warm lights, maybe a hospital room, where a pretty young woman held a newborn baby, it made him enjoy the holiday a little bit more.

"But don't get me wrong," Stan had added, "I fucking love getting presents. I'd just wish it'd be a hell of a lot quieter."

When Mr. Broflovski had finished lighting the sixth candle and the prayers had been recited, Sheila offered the boys some latkes. Kyle guessed this was Stan's favorite part of the whole evening because he tended to hide several of the potato cakes in his jacket pockets for later.

"Dude, it's like hash brown pancakes. It's awesome."

After they'd eaten their fill, Stan and Kyle adjourned to the redhead's room. Once there Stan pulled out Kyle's sixth Hanukkah gift. At first Kyle stared, thinking he was looking at a blank piece of paper, but Stan flipped it over to reveal a scribbling mess. Upon closer inspection, Kyle could make out two figures one in front of a Christmas tree the other a Menorah. The two figures met in the middle, holding hands.

"See it's you and me," Stan explained. "I drew me here and you and your awesome hat!"

Kyle took the picture. His mouth twitched, holding back a laugh. The gift was really pathetic, even for Stan, but something made Kyle's snide remark falter in his throat. Stan really couldn't draw, but despite the haystack-like scribbles, Kyle couldn't help, but find the artwork awesome. The picture was what Stan liked about holidays; it was quiet and rather peaceful to look at. With the colors blending together, the two figures appeared to waver in the middle, their outlines not completely coherent. Stan's figure wore a blue hat with a large red dot right on top. Kyle's caricature wore a green square on top of his head. One scribbled brown coat and one hastily etched orange jacket were the only other distinguishing features on the characters.

Kyle turned on his heel and marched over to his corkboard. He took down two pushpins and stuck the picture right in the middle. He stepped back to admire the work. Stan shuffled up to his side.

"So, you like it, then?" Stan asked in a small voice.

Kyle beamed.

"I love it!"

* * *

><p>The next day Stan arrived late to the candle lighting. He explained that the day after Christmas was the day his father headed to Wall-Mart for all the After-Christmas sales. Stan, unfortunately, had been dragged along to help his dad stock up on plastic lawn ornaments and giant, blow-up snow globes. Shelley had come too, wanting to spend some of her Christmas money; she occupied a great deal of her time debating over whether or not she should get the latest single of her teen pop idol.<p>

When Stan finally arrived at the Broflovski's, he seemed a bit disgruntled. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it at the coat rack. It missed and Kyle put it up for him.

"You okay?"

"My dad is such a retard," Stan fumed. Kyle sighed.

"What he do this time?"

"Got us banned from Wall-Mart for another six months," Stan explained, stomping after Kyle as they ascended the stairs to the boy's bedroom. Once inside, Stan threw himself down on Kyle's bed and buried his face in his friend's pillows.

"That sucks, Dude," Kyle said sympathetically. He sat on the edge of the bed, near Stan's head.

"He broke a plasma screen TV too," Stan moaned. "He had to pay for it right then and there. Well, he was a jackass and made Shelley and I hand over what cash we had on us. And he even said he'd have to dip into the rest of our Christmas money. Goddammit, Dad!"

Stan pulled at his hair. Kyle frowned. Not sure how best to comfort his friend, Kyle patted Stan gently on the shoulder. Stan made a sniffing noise, but Kyle didn't ask about it.

After a few moments of silence, Stan shuffled his way out from under the pillows. He sat up and with bloodshot eyes glanced over at Kyle. The redhead fidgeted and turned away, a bit embarrassed that Stan had been crying. Pretending he hadn't noticed, Kyle got to his feet and walked towards his desk. He picked up the deck of John Elway cards and offered to play a game with Stan. For a moment, Stan didn't speak. He stared at Kyle and continued to sniffle. Slowly, he got to his feet and crossed the length of the room to his friend's side. Kyle had no time to register the movement before Stan threw his arms around Kyle's neck, pressing their chests together.

Kyle froze, the playing cards cascading out of his hands. They fell about the floor, scattering like something shattered and broken.

"I'm sorry," Stan murmured into Kyle's ear. "I'm sorry."

Kyle shook his head back and forth.

"What? Stan?"

"I didn't get you a proper Hanukkah gift. I got nothing, Dude." Stan whispered so low that Kyle wasn't sure he was even talking. "I got nothing but…."

Kyle didn't know why his eyes were stinging. He screwed up his face and glared at his bedpost.

"But what…?"

"It's stupid."

"I'd like it no matter what."

Stan rubbed his face into Kyle's shoulder.

"I wanted to get you a dreidel at Wall-Mart, but they didn't have any. The store guy thought I was talking about something else," Stan confessed. He pulled away from Kyle and gave a sheepish smile.

"What did he think you were talking about?" Kyle asked.

"Beyblade."

"What?" Kyle wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

Stan threw out his arms.

"I know, Dude! Who hasn't heard of a dreidel? Both the store guy and his manager kept thinking I was talking about Beyblade. I told them I needed a Jewish top that had writing on the sides. I told them it was an old traditional game!" Stan rushed, his breath coming out in frustrated gasps. "But that stupid manager kept showing me Beyblade toys! I wanted to scream! They were so shitty!"

"Dude, calm down," Kyle said with a forced laugh. Stan paced the room.

"How can you get the two confused?" Stan ranted.

"Stan, it's okay," Kyle said his shoulder's slumping. "It's South Park. I don't expect a Wall-Mart in a small town in the mountains to know anything about Judaism."

"It was still kind of stupid for them to think that crappy game had anything to do with Dreidel."

"I know," Kyle sighed. "Now, you know what it's like."

"What?"

"To not find anything or anyone to relate to what you know. I mean like Hanukkah for instance. Stan, my family's like the only Jewish family in town. How many times do you think we had to deal with people not understanding us?" Kyle said, taking Stan's hand so he'd stop pacing. "Besides, it was only a dreidel. I have plenty of those."

"But…it's something important to your family's traditions," Stan mumbled pathetically. He allowed Kyle to pull him down onto the bed. They lay down side by side; their heads resting together on the same pillow.

"I guess…," Kyle agreed. "But I honestly have a lot of dreidels, Dude."

"But this one would have been from me," Stan whined. "It would have been your Super Best Friend dreidel that only the two of us would have played."

Kyle laughed.

"Well, that sounds nice. You can always try getting me one tomorrow," Kyle pointed out. "There's still one more night of Hanukkah."

Stan sniffed. "But I had another gift planned out for tomorrow." He blushed and turned his face away from Kyle.

"Ah, Dude, now I'm curious!" Kyle smiled, jumping on top of Stan. "Dude, give me a hint."

"No."

"Please?"

"You really think its okay that they thought Beyblade had something to do with Hanukkah and dreidels?" Stan pressed. Kyle frowned and fell back onto the bed.

"No. It's kind of douche-y of them, I guess. Especially if you tried to explain to them it was a tradition from a religious holiday," Kyle mused.

"Dude, its like if I went and asked for a Nativity scene, and they pointed me towards Barbie's fucking dream house," Stan growled.

"Not sure if playing dreidel and the Nativity scene hold the same kind of potency, but I get what you're saying…sort of."

Stan was picking at a hole in Kyle's bed sheets. He kept his eyes averted from his friend.

"Do you want to play Dreidel with the ones I have?" Kyle offered.

"No."

Stan wiggled his finger back and forth between the tear. Kyle yanked his hand away, pulling it towards his chest.

"Don't do that. My mom will get mad."

"Sorry." Stan grunted. Kyle narrowed his eyes.

"Stan, get over it."

"I wanted to get you something, and I didn't."

Kyle cast his eyes about the room. He examined the Terrence and Phillip dolls resting on his desktop. Looking down he stared at the cluster of playing cards still littering the floor.

"Er…you gave me a hug," Kyle blurted out. Stan's head tilted up.

"A hug?"

"Yeah – er – that totally counts, dude," Kyle lied. Stan scooted towards him and wrapped his arm around the other boy's waist.

"I'll give you a proper one that isn't all wet 'cause I was crying."

"I didn't mind," Kyle murmured as Stan tugged him into his chest. They lay like that for some time, quiet and sleepy. Kyle could feel his eyes drift shut, and he pressed his forehead into the nape of Stan's neck. He felt Stan's breath on his ear.

It was a pleasant feeling, Kyle admitted, to lie like that without a word between them. It felt good. It felt like something they should do more often.

Stan closed his arms tighter about Kyle's waist and buried his face into Kyle's green hat.

"So, you like this as a Hanukkah gift?" Stan asked still sounding unsure.

Kyle found his lips brushing the collar of Stan's t-shirt as he spoke. "Of course, dude. Anything I get from you, I like. It's 'cause you're my best friend.

"I promise I'll get you a much nicer present tomorrow," Stan proclaimed. Kyle sighed.

"Cool, dude."

* * *

><p>The last night of Hanukkah Stan arrived early. He and Kyle watched Mr. Broflovski light the last candle on the Menorah, Mrs. Broflovski shared another batch of latkes (at Stan's request), and Ike tried to sing the dreidel song for his mother, who had shouted for Gerald to get the camera so they could document the apparent feat. Kyle and Stan had stood in the corner of the living room chuckling at Mrs. Broflovski's squawking. Ike had tired himself out before his father had the camera working. Sheila insisted Ike sing another rendition, but his favorite news program had come on MSNBC, and the four-year old had patience for nothing else. Sheila huffed and rounded on Kyle.<p>

"Bubbeh!"

"No." Kyle said as a knee jerk reaction.

"No? But, Bubbeh, your father got the camera out and everything. Just sing a little song for the camera. Hmm? We can show it to your auntie!"

"No, Ma," Kyle said a bit more sternly. He looked significantly at Stan as if to ask him to suggest that they head upstairs to play. Unfortunately, Stan looked intrigued.

"I don't know all the words to the dreidel song, Mrs. Broflovski, can you teach me?"

"Dude, what, why?" Kyle's jaw dropped open. His mother didn't seem to notice; instead she clapped her hands together and tugged Stan down to sit upon the couch. She proceeded to teach Stan line by line the dreidel song. Eventually, she had both boys stand near the fireplace and sing as Gerald recorded. Stan slipped up on a few of the verses, but made up in volume. Kyle kept his arms folded and his mouth set in a frown as he recited the lyrics in monotone. Several times his mother gave him a pointed look as if willing him to sing with a bit more passion.

Kyle refused.

After three more renditions of the song, two with Sheila joining in and one with Gerald awkwardly droning on behind them as Mrs. Broflovski held the camera, Kyle and Stan were allowed to head upstairs. Back in Kyle's room, the redhead shuffled over towards his computer and began angrily typing out a Facebook post about his mother's embarrassing nature. Stan watched from over his shoulder, chuckling at Kyle's dramatics.

"She was only wanting to make a video for your aunt, dude," Stan commented.

"I don't care. It was stupid," Kyle huffed. Stan sighed, and fished in his coat pocket.

"If you don't stop being a jerk and get off Facebook, I'm not giving you your eighth Hanukkah gift." Stan smirked and held up his clenched fist. Kyle spun around in his chair.

"Seriously? Did you get me a dreidel? I told you I had too many already."

Stan frowned and opened up his hand. It was indeed a dreidel, a small wooden one with blue lettering hand painted on the side. Kyle stared at it for a moment. The little wooden top was lopsided, slightly warped around its stem. Kyle took it from Stan and rubbed his fingers over the rough corners, wood dust came off on his fingers. He turned the dreidel in his hands back and forth examining the shaky paint job on each side.

"Dude…did you make this?"

Stan ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"My dad had some extra two-by-fours in the garage. I sort of still had his tools in the bottom of my closet from when we played super heroes," Stan explained. Kyle cupped the little dreidel in his hands.

"Thank you."

Stan shuffled his feet.

"So you like it, then? You aren't going to pitch it?'

Kyle looked up.

"I'd never throw away anything you gave me. No matter how stupid, Stan."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Stan smiled and pointed at the wooden top. "Er…this isn't all of your present, you know?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Please tell me you didn't make me a Menorah too?"

Stan laughed. He waved his hands back and forth. "No, no. The next part of your gift is playing the dreidel game with me and my new Super Best Friend rules."

Stan turned on his heel not waiting for an answer. He threw himself down on the floor and sat cross legged waiting for Kyle to join him. A bit confused, but enjoying Stan's enthusiasm, Kyle took a seat opposite his friend.

Without looking at him, Stan explained his new Super Best Friend rules, which turned out to be very short.

"So just spin it, and based on where it lands, I'll give you something."

"Dude, that's not how dreidel works. We need like chocolate coins or like counters to bet first. Each round we bet something. Then based on the symbols here," Kyle pointed to each side of the top, "we either add more or take from the pot."

Stan shook his head grinning.

"Nope. That's not how you play it my way."

Kyle rubbed his temple.

"And your way is…?"

"Dude, I just explained it. Keep up!"

Stan slapped Kyle in the shoulder and then leaned back against the bedpost. He folded his arms in his lap and waited.

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"You just want me to spin it? And then you'll give me something?"

Stan nodded.

"It's all part of your eighth gift of Hanukkah."

Kyle shrugged and gave the little top a twirl. They watched it rattle unsteadily on its askew point. Several seconds passed and the dreidel wobbled to an ungraceful stop. Kyle read the symbol. He sighed, it had landed on _nun_ therefore he'd won nothing.

"Your turn." Kyle made to hand back the dreidel, but Stan shook his head.

"Go again."

"Really?"

"Yep."

Kyle spun the top again. This time it landed on the letter called _hei_. Kyle looked up at Stan and shrugged.

"Well, if there was a pot, I'd get half of it," Kyle announced. "So what do I get inste –"

Suddenly Kyle felt the wind knock out of his chest as Stan threw his arms around him in a tight embrace. The black-haired boy squeezed his arms and laughed before jumping back into his seat across from his friend.

Kyle sat stunned his mouth hanging open.

"What the hell?"

"You said yesterday that hugs count, right?"

Kyle snorted with laughter.

"Dude, that's your stupid Super Best Friend rules? You give out hugs? Dude, that's so gay!"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. It's cool and you know it!" Stan challenged.

"How is giving me a hug cool?"

"Cause this is how we can play dreidel and no one else, Dude." Stan waved his arms back and forth between them. "It's a Super Best Friend thing."

"You keep saying that and all I hear is _gay_."

"Shut up and spin the damn top again. You still haven't gotten all the prize."

"What I get two hugs is I roll _gimel_?" Kyle joked, spinning the top again. Stan gave him a puzzled look. "The little upside down 'y' shaped one," Kyle translated.

"Oh, yeah that one." Stan said, recognition dawning. "Maybe," he added trying to sound mysterious, but failing as a grin forced its way across his lips.

The dreidel came to a stop and landed on _shin_. Kyle held out his hands.

"I don't have anything to put into the pot."

"No," Stan agreed. "But you give me something."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "A hug?"

Stan thought for a moment and his eyes trailed over Kyle's face.

"Nope. You're hat."

"Fuck no, I don't take off my hat."

Stan pouted.

"Fine if you don't want to play Super Best Friend dreidel, then I'll just leave."

Kyle grunted, but tore off his green ushanka and tossed it at Stan's face. Stan grinned like an idiot and pulled the green hat over his own head, obscuring his little red poof-ball. Kyle frowned, self-consciously running his fingers through his curly hair. He tugged at it. Stan's face softened.

"For what it's worth, Dude, I like your hair."

Kyle scoffed.

"Sure. My stupid clown hair."

Stan pulled off the ushanka and placed it back on Kyle's head. Startled, Kyle glanced up, and Stan gave him a smile.

"If it bothers you that much, you can have your hat back."

"Thanks."

"Spin the dreidel again, Dude," Stan insisted. Kyle picked the top up once again and let it twirl off his fingertips. Stan hummed a few disjointed lyrics of the dreidel song before the top fell to a stop. It had finally landed on _gimel_.

Kyle held out his arms, expecting a tackling hug. Stan shook his head. He played with the edges of his jacket as he asked Kyle to close his eyes. Obeying because he was eager to discover his last gift, Kyle waited with his hands resting at his sides and his back slightly slouched. He felt Stan move beside him. The fabric of the other boy's jeans swished as he sat up on his knees. Kyle guessed that Stan was crawling towards something. Probably his overnight bag in the corner; Sheila had let Stan stay the night.

"Dude, hurry up!" Kyle moaned, rocking back and forth. Stan took in a sharp breath.

"Hold on, hold on!"

"What? Can I look?"

"NO! Er…not yet. Keep your eyes closed. I just have to think about something first, okay?"

"What's there to think about, Stan? Just give it to me!"

Once again Kyle felt Stan's arms wrap around him. The redhead laughed, reveling in being right about the hug-thing. Stan was going to give him two hugs or something lame like that. Yet, the hug lasted longer than expected, and it wasn't the same hug as before. Stan didn't squeeze his arms tight about Kyle's chest. Instead, Kyle could feel Stan's arms lingering around the small of his back, gentle and…shaking?

"Dude, are you okay?" Kyle asked his eyes still closed.

"I-I'm okay, Kyle. Give me a sec."

Before Kyle could reply again, he felt Stan press his lips against his own. With his eyes flying open, Kyle froze. Stan's face was scrunched up in concentration, as if the kiss were taking a lot of deep thought.

Kyle struggled and pulled away.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

Stan gave a crooked smile.

"You said hugs counted, doesn't this count too as a good Hanukkah gift?"

Kyle's jaw dropped. He tried to sputter an answer, but couldn't find any coherent thoughts to string into a sentence. Stan let go of his waist and slid back to huddle against the bedpost. He looked suddenly small and wounded, holding his arms around him as if for protection.

"Did you not like it?"

"You kissed me?" Kyle managed to blurt out the obvious.

"You didn't like it?" Stan repeated.

Kyle shook his head back and forth before stopping.

"I don't understand, Dude. Why the hell would you kiss me?"

Stan shrugged.

"Seemed like the right thing to do."

"It did?"

Stan nodded, he tugged at his shoelaces avoiding Kyle's eye.

"I wanted to see what it would be like. Plus…."

"Plus what, Stan?" Kyle pressed his voice coming out it a little too quickly.

Hunching his shoulders a little more, Stan mumbled into his knees.

"Around Christmas time, you look really sad. I know you try to hide it, but I notice, Dude. Especially when Cartman starts messin' with you. You tell him to fuck off and everything, but…I don't know you always seemed really sad too."

Kyle found his voice as he frowned.

"Whatever, I could care less what that fat piece of shit has to say to me about being Jewish," Kyle snapped. He didn't mean to sound so angry at Stan, but some of what his best friend was saying was hitting a little too close to home.

"See, you don't want anyone to think he gets to you or that this whole town gets to you sometimes. But I know it must suck to see us do Christmas stuff and you can't really be a part of it. So, I thought to myself, I should participate in Hanukkah. You shouldn't have to feel left out. I could learn all your traditions and stuff. So you wouldn't be alone. And I wanted to give you gifts."

Kyle forced a laugh.

"So, you just ran out of ideas and gave me a kiss?"

"No," Stan whispered. "The kiss was the first thing I thought about giving you."

Kyle's head spun.

"What why?"

Stan shrugged.

"Don't know. Just that's what I kept thinkin' to myself. 'Gee, Kyle looks sad, maybe I should kiss him?'" Stan explained. He looked up at Kyle for the first time. His eyes were slightly red, but his expression was nothing but puzzlement. "Isn't that weird, dude?"

"Kind of, yeah." Kyle twisted the dreidel between his fingers.

Stan turned his body towards Kyle.

"Yeah. Cause it wasn't 'gee, Kyle's sad I should talk to him' or 'oh no, Kyle looks sad maybe I should make him laugh.' No, the first thing I always thought was, I should kiss him. Though those other things did fall after."

"I don't understand," Kyle said slowly, watching the dreidel flop over in his palm to land with the _gimel_ side up.

"Was my kiss that bad?" Stan asked his voice sounding strained.

"No, it seemed like a perfectly nice kiss, Dude, just that's the thing, you're a dude. I'm a dude. It was weird."

"But we're Super Best Friends," Stan pointed out. "So, it's okay."

"It is?"

"Isn't it?"

Kyle guessed Stan really needed him to answer in the affirmative. Without thinking on it, Kyle reached out his hand and took hold of Stan's jacket sleeve. He didn't tug Stan towards him and Stan didn't pull away. They sat there in silence with Kyle clinging to Stan and Stan leaning forward with his head bowed. The floorboards creaked and the hum of the living room television drifted up the stairs to leak in under the door. Kyle felt calm, for a moment he felt like laying down and allowing Stan to lay beside him, in the quiet together. Peace. That's what he felt like now: peaceful. His heart had settled its frantic rhythm and now in the aftermath, he had Stan with him. His best friend had just wanted him to be happy.

Kyle glanced up at Stan and saw the boy cower slightly from the gaze. He looked so sad.

Shuffling on his knees, Kyle knelt in front of Stan. He continued to cling to the boy's brown jacket as he leaned his head forward. A brief brush of their lips, and then Kyle pulled back, his face burning the same color as his hidden hair.

Stan's eyes were wide.

"Why'd you do that?"

Kyle smiled.

"Cause you looked sad and I thought a kiss would make you feel better, duh."

Stan laughed.

"That is kind of stupid to think, isn't it?"

Kyle shook his head.

"Nah, Dude, its cool."

Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle and pulled him into another hug. Kyle could feel his friend sniffle on his shoulder.

"I'm glad," Stan murmured into Kyle's neck.

"Besides," Kyle added, "Your kiss is probably the best Hanukkah gift I've ever gotten."

"Really? Even better than the Terrence and Phillip action figures and the John Elway cards?"

"Way better, Dude."

Stan kissed him again. He smiled as he pulled back.

"Well, that's good cause my dad took all my Christmas money after that Wall-Mart fiasco, and it might take me awhile to raise enough money to buy you eight gifts in a row again," Stan confessed.

Kyle laughed. He was totally okay with the idea of Stan kissing him once for each night of Hanukkah in the years to come.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays everyone! :D<p>

(P.S. That dreidel / Beyblade story is based off a true story I read on Tumblr. I thought it sounded like something that would happen on South Park.)


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